The morning sun filtered through the high windows of Lecture Hall B. It was Advanced Combat Theory, a class usually reserved for the top 50 students.
Ren walked in ten minutes late.
The room went silent. Every head turned.
"He's dead," a student whispered. "Instructor Valerica flays people for being late."
Damon, sitting in the front row with a bandage around his neck, smirked. He had been waiting for this. Go on, Valerica. Crush him.
Instructor Valerica stood at the podium. She was wearing a fresh, crisp uniform, buttoned all the way to her chin to hide the bite marks on her neck. Her hair was pulled back tight, but there was a softness in her eyes that hadn't been there yesterday.
She stopped mid-sentence as Ren walked in. She gripped the podium, her knuckles turning white.
The class held its breath, waiting for the explosion.
Ren didn't apologize. He didn't bow. He walked casually toward an empty seat in the back.
"Ren," Valerica said, her voice sounding strangely breathless.
Ren stopped and looked at her. He tapped his wrist, signaling the time.
Valerica swallowed hard. The memory of him fucking her into her desk flashed through her mind—the phantom sensation of his jizz still filling her womb made her knees weak.
"Take a seat," Valerica said, her voice trembling slightly. "Try... try to be on time tomorrow."
The silence in the room was deafening.
What?
Damon stood up, outraged. "Instructor! You gave me detention for being thirty seconds late yesterday! He walks in ten minutes late and you just let him sit?"
Valerica turned her gaze to Damon. The softness vanished instantly, replaced by the terrifying yellow glare of the Iron Maiden.
"Sit down, Mr. Vance," she growled, "before I rip that bandage off your neck and finish what Ren started."
Damon paled and sank back into his chair.
Ren sat down, suppressing a smile. Having the Head of Discipline as a pet had its perks.
The Announcement
At the end of the lecture, Valerica cleared her throat.
"Listen up. The Headmaster has authorized the Annual Ranking Tournament to begin this Friday."
A wave of excitement rippled through the room.
"This year is different," Valerica continued, her eyes flickering briefly to Ren. "The winner will not only receive the title of Academy King, but also a Unique-Grade Artifact from the Royal Treasury and an automatic placement in the S-Rank Guild: The Dawnbreakers."
The room erupted. The Dawnbreakers were the heroes of the nation. Joining them was a ticket to fame, fortune, and power.
"Sign-ups are open," Valerica finished. "Dismissed."
As the students rushed out, Ren stayed behind. He waited until the room was empty.
Valerica walked over to him, locking the door. She dropped to one knee immediately, bowing her head.
"Master," she murmured, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her cheek. "Did I do well?"
Ren looked down at the giantess submitting to him. It never got old.
"Adequate," Ren said. "But I need something from you."
"Anything," she breathed.
"Enter me in the Tournament," Ren said. "But not in the rookie bracket. Put me in the Elite Bracket."
Valerica looked up, concerned. "Master, the Elite Bracket is full of B-Rank seniors. Damon will be there. And the Student Council... Vanessa..."
"Vanessa won't be a problem," Ren said with a dark smile. "And neither will the rest. I need the XP."
Lunch at the Top
The cafeteria was divided by social class. The scholarship students ate on the ground floor. The Elites ate on the balcony.
Ren walked straight to the stairs leading to the balcony.
"Hey! You can't go up there!" A prefect shouted, stepping in his way.
"Let him pass."
Vanessa appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked regal and cold, looking down at the cafeteria like a queen surveying her subjects.
The prefect bowed and stepped aside.
Ren walked up the stairs. Vanessa turned and led him to her private table—the best seat in the house.
She sat down, but she didn't eat. She stared at him. Then, she leaned across the table, sniffing the air.
Her eyes narrowed. The temperature around the table dropped ten degrees.
"You smell like her," Vanessa hissed, her jealousy spiking. "Valerica."
Ren didn't deny it. He picked up an apple from her tray and took a bite. "We had a... private lesson."
Vanessa gripped her fork until it bent in half. "You gave her the cure? The same cure you gave me?"
"Does that bother you, President?" Ren asked, challenging her.
Vanessa looked at him. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to freeze him. But the Imprint twisted that anger into something else—desperation. She didn't want him to stop; she just wanted to be the favorite.
"It bothers me," Vanessa whispered, her voice trembling. "Because I want it all for myself."
Ren reached under the table. He placed his hand on her knee, sliding it up her thigh. Vanessa gasped, freezing in place.
"Win the Tournament," Ren whispered. "Prove you're better than her. If you make it to the finals... I'll give you a reward that will make the cave look like a warm-up."
Vanessa's eyes dilated. The promise of his full power—and the pleasure that came with it—was a stronger motivator than any trophy.
"I'll win," she vowed, a manic determination in her eyes. "I'll freeze everyone."
Ren smiled.
He had the Teacher rigging the brackets. He had the Student President acting as his enforcer.
And Damon? Damon was just XP waiting to be harvested.